Shelley's
Ashes
Copyright 2008/2013
by John Lauritsen
According to Greek legend,
the ashes of
Achilles and Patroklos were mingled in a golden urn; they were buried
together in a common tomb. *
Alan Bray begins his book The Friend
by describing a 17th century tomb in the chapel of Christ's College,
Cambridge, in which two men were buried together, Sir John Finch and
Sir Thomas Baines. These men met as students at Christ's College, and
formed a friendship which lasted for the rest of their lives. One of
them, John Finch, described their friendship as an “Animorum
Connubium”: a marriage of souls.
Bray recounts many other pairs of loving
friends who were buried together in a common tomb. For example, a tomb
was found in Istanbul for two English Knights: Sir John Clanvowe and
Sir William Neville, who both died in October 1391. According to a
chronicle compiled by the monks of Westminster Abbey:
In a village near Constantinople in Greece the life of Sir John
Clanvowe, a distinguished knight, came to its close, causing to his
companion on the march, Sir William Neville, for whom his love was no
less than for himself, such inconsolable sorrow that he never
took food again and two days afterward breathed his last, greatly
mourned, in the same village. These two knights were men of high repute
among the English, gentlemen of mettle and descended from illustrious
families. (translation from the Latin by Alan Bray, The
Friend,
p.
19)
Percy Bysshe Shelley painted by William
Edward
West.
Edward Ellerker Williams painted
by George Clint.
In the Protestant Cemetery in Rome are
buried the ashes of Percy Bysshe Shelley, mixed with the ashes of his
beloved friend, Edward Ellerker Williams. The two friends died together
in a boating accident in the Gulf of Spezia on 8 July 1822; both were
only 29 years of age. Next to their grave is a tombstone, on which is
inscribed an epitaph which Shelley had composed for himself and
Williams:
These are two friends
whose lives were undivided.
So let their memory be now they have glided
Under the grave: let not their bones be parted
For their two hearts in life were single-hearted.
Now, this is not quite the account you
will read in the standard Shelley biographies, so I'll need to explain.
This little essay will be an exercise in thinking things through, in
making the appropriate connections. In the vernacular, I'll be
“connecting the dots” — dots that were
always there, right before the eyes of the biographers.
When I first read this
epitaph many years ago, I sensed it was gay. Here is the standard version:
EPITAPH
These are two friends whose lives were undivided;
So let their memory be, now they have glided
Under the grave; let not their bones be parted
For their two hearts in life were single-hearted.
(Shelley/Hutchinson 1970)
However, a strikingly different version
is found in Thomas Medwin's The Life of
Percy Bysshe Shelley (London 1847). The salient
differences are the addition of the verb mingle
and the substitution of dust
for bones:
EPITAPH
They were two friends, whose life was undivided.
So let them mingle. Sweetly they had glided
Under the grave. Let not their dust be parted,
For their two hearts in life were single-hearted.
(Medwin
1847/1913,
vol. II, p. 390)
Medwin knew that Shelley and Williams had
been cremated, and therefore used “dust” rather than
“bones”. (“Dust” had to be used, rather than
“ashes”, for the line to scan.) “Mingle” in
Medwin's version is stronger and more erotic, suggesting that bodies of
the two friends had mingled when alive.
H. Buxton Forman provides the following note to the above Medwin version of the Epitaph:
This version of the epitaph may perchance have been
written by Shelley: probably more than one manuscript exists. the best
version is that of the holograph in Mr. Bixley's Note Book No. I:
These are two friends whose lives were undivided —
So let their memory be now they have glided
Under the grave, let not their bones be parted
For their two breasts in life were single-hearted.
The Medwin variant might be recorded in variorium
editions of Shelley with a caution. Mary Shelley had the Note Book in
question when she first published the epitaph in 1824; and, if that was
her sole source, she must have misread breasts for hearts,
which scarcely makes sense, although it has satisfied editors and
critics so far. Although written in pencil, the words are all
absolutely unmistakable. (Medwin 1913)
As Forman points out, the final line makes no sense when “two
hearts” is substituted for “two breasts”. However,
Mary Shelley may not simply have “misread breasts for
hearts”, but deliberately altered the line to camouflage its
physicality. She did her best to censor homoeroticism in Shelley's
works — for example, her unforgivable suppression and then
bowdlerization of Shelley's masterful translation of Plato's dialogue
on Eros, The Banquet (or Symposium), which was only published complete and unbowdlerized more than a century after Shelley finished it.
Medwin was a cousin and life-long friend
of Shelley's. Like the other men in the Shelley-Byron circle, he was
gay — or, as it were, bisexual. (All of these men were
married and had children.) Medwin informs us through his Life
that
Shelley wrote the epitaph for himself and Edward Williams.
Edward John Trelawny tells how Shelley
and Williams died, and how they were cremated and buried. The bodies of
Shelley and Williams were found, washed up on the Italian shore.
Trelawny took charge, and had them buried in temporary graves. He had a
portable furnace made. Byron and Trelawny then had the bodies exhumed
and burned to ashes, as they performed pagan rites:
[Cremation of
Williams] As soon as
the flames became clear, and allowed
us to approach, we threw frankincense and salt into the furnace, and
poured a flask of wine and oil over the body. The Greek oration was
omitted, for we had lost our Hellenic bard. It was now so insufferably
hot that the officers and soldiers were all seeking shade. (Trelawny p.
90)
Similar rites were performed the next
day as Shelley was cremated. The ashes were put in boxes and carried
aboard Byron's yacht. Leigh Hunt was also present at the cremation of
Shelley, but was too upset to watch it, and retired to the coach.
Medwin joined the group, arriving a few hours too late to take part in
the cremation.
Trelawny sent a box of ashes to
Rome. When he arrived there the next year, he purchased two
adjacent lots, one for Shelley and one for himself. He had a tombstone
put up, with three lines from The Tempest:
Nothing of him that
doth fade
But doth suffer a sea change
Into something rich and strange.
A box of ashes was given to Williams's common-law widow, Jane.
Now, I pose the question: Were the
ashes
of Shelley and Williams mixed or were they kept separate?
Let's examine
what we know.
First and foremost, Shelley and Williams
loved each other. Trelawny in his Recollections
says directly that
Shelley loved Williams, that Williams loved Shelley, and that he loved
both of them. The epitaph is an expression of love that goes far beyond
mere friendship. The mutual love of Shelley and Williams was known and
acknowledged by the men in their circle, who treated them as a couple.
The epitaph was known to Medwin and
Trelawny, and presumably also to Byron. Here's the situation: they are
mourning the deaths of their friends, whom they have cremated, using a
pagan ritual with Greek allusions (suggesting Greek Love). They know
that their friends had desired to be buried together. Aboard Byron's yacht they are alone with the
ashes. No outsiders are present. Now, what do they do?
Yes, they mix
the ashes together! Trelawny
would not have balked: he had the audacity and the imagination.
Decades passed. Trelawny lived into a
vigorous old age. When he finally died — on 13 August 1881,
at the age of 89 — his plans had been laid well in advance.
His body was embalmed and sent to Germany to be cremated. His mistress,
Emma Taylor, then took the ashes to Rome, where they were buried in the
lot he had purchased in 1823, next to Shelley's grave. At his request,
the four lines of Shelley's epitaph were carved on his tombstone:
These are two friends whose
lives were
undivided.
So let their memory be now they have
glided
Under the grave: let not their bones be
parted
For their two hearts in life were
single-hearted.
Although biographers have assumed that
Trelawny meant Shelley and himself as the “two
friends”, this makes no sense. Trelawny had known Shelley for
only half a year. As much as Trelawny loved and admired him, he could
hardly have described his life and Shelley's as
“undivided”. And besides, he knew that his own
ashes would be alone. The epitaph on the tombstone was not an act of
presumption, but of loyalty — it did not
refer to Trelawny at all, but to Shelley and Williams, the two friends
whose mingled ashes lie in the adjacent grave.
#
# #
Trelawny painted by William Edward West
in 1822.
Trelawny in his eighties — still
handsome.
Afterword
Now, the reader may wish to go back
through this essay, to decide where and how much I have engaged in
speculation. There's nothing wrong with speculation per se;
in
science
it's known as formulating hypotheses. However, a writer should make
clear the basis of his conclusions; it should be apparent when he is
speculating and when he is using facts that are established beyond
reasonable doubt.
Trelawny did have the motive and the
opportunity to mix the ashes, and it was in his character to do so.
Indeed, it's unthinkable he would not have. Although the surviving men
in the Shelley-Byron circle kept the secret well, Medwin and Trelawny
at least hinted at it.
What happened to the other box, the one
that was given to Jane Williams? Well, after the death of Edward she
returned to England, where she became the common-law wife of Shelley's
old friend, Thomas Jefferson Hogg. Although they never married legally,
the partnership was a happy one; they had one daughter, Prudentia, and
Hogg was a good stepfather to her children by Edward
Williams. Jane Williams-Hogg outlived him, dying in 1884 at
the
age of 86. She
was buried next to Hogg in Kensall Green cemetery; in her coffin was a
box containing ... the mixed ashes of Williams and Shelley. And so at
last they were all re-united: Shelley with his two best friends, and
Jane with her two common-law husbands. Hogg would have liked Williams,
and Williams would have liked the man who raised his children. And
Shelley and Jane were the best of friends.
Free Love has this,
different from gold
and
clay,
That to divide is not to take away.
—
Shelley
**
References
Alan Bray (2003). The
Friend. Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press.
H.J. Massingham (1930). The Friend of
Shelley:
A Memoir of Edward John
Trelawny. New York: Appleton and Co.
Thomas Medwin (1913). The Life of
Percy
Bysshe Shelley (H.B. Forman,
Ed.). London: Humphrey Milford. [Expanded edition of original work
published in 1847.]
Scott, Winifred. (1951). Jefferson
Hogg:
Shelley's Biographer. London:
Jonathan Cape.
Percy Bysshe Shelley (1970). Poetical Works,
edited by Thomas
Hutchinson; a new edition, corrected by G.M. Matthews. London: Oxford
UP.
Plato. (2001). The
Banquet. (P.B. Shelley, Translator, J. Lauritsen, Editor and Foreword) Provincetown: Pagan Press.
William St. Clair (1977). Trelawny: The
Incurable
Romancer. New York:
The Vanguard Press.
Edward John Trelawny (1858). Recollections
of
Shelley and Byron.
London: Moxon. Repr. 2000 with Introduction by David Crane, New York:
Carroll & Graf, 2000.
Notes
*
In the Iliad, the ghost
of Patroklos visits Achilles, pleading that his body be cremated and
his ashes placed in the same golden urn with his. To
read this excerpt, as translated by Edward Carpenter, click here.
**
Two
lines from “Passages of the poem,
or connected therewith”, which were
not printed with Epipsychidion.